"Do you _actually_ mean to ask him, Gladys?" said Burgoyne. "I never was more serious in my life. Moreover it is the will of the table." Burgoyne held up his hands. "Oh Lord! Oh Lord!" he exclaimed. "It isn't all bad," Cameron remarked. "If we treat him half decent maybe sometime we can all borrow an extra wad at the Tuscarora." "Touching that matter," laughed Devereux, "I have known such things to happen." "But not touching Porshinger," Cameron observed. "The man who touches him will be a fencer indeed." "He'll be a burglar!" Devereux retorted. "Why are _you_ so quiet?" turning to Pendleton. "Why don't you say something?--join in, join in!" "It's not up to me to say anything," Pendleton replied, as he sunk his fork into the asparagus salad. "It's your funeral as much as anyone's!" Devereux exclaimed. "Not at all--it is Miss Chamberlain's. She will have to bear the responsibility and the burden--and be nice to him in future. We are obligated to nothing except to be civil to him while we're at Criss-Cross. It is not worrying me in the least--moreover, I'm not in need of money." "Now you have it, Devereux!" said Cameron. "Want any more?" "Not at present, thank you!" Devereux laughed. "Meanwhile we have until to-morrow before the bounder arrives. I'm going to enjoy the time while it lasts--it is short enough as it is." "How are you going to enjoy it?" asked Mrs. Burleston. "Making love to you." "Why should Mr. Porshinger's coming interfere with you making love to Helen?" Gladys inquired. "'Oh, the fascinating widow!'" sang Devereux. "Do be sensible, Dev," Mrs. Burleston exclaimed. "Ask of him something possible!" Gladys laughed. "Dear Lady, you speak with a cruel tongue----" "But with a true tongue," she interjected. "Perchance--yes! Verily I say unto you that unless you wear red hosiery in the autumn the truth isn't in you and you shall surely be damned." "There is not the least doubt of _your_ being damned," remarked Cameron. "You mistake the sex--I don't wear _hosiery_. I wear socks." "I'm not so sure!" Cameron retorted. "That could be taken as a reflection on me, but you naturally referred to the ladies. 'Twas a most ungallant speech, monsieur, a most ungallant speech! Remember it not against him, mademoiselles--he knows not what he does." "What a clown Dev can be when he tries!" smiled Pendleton. "His facial expressions make funny what otherwise would be rotten." "And it is so absurd in him, who is such a wonder in business," Stephanie added. "The man has a double nature, surely--and I can't say that I care for this side. It doesn't fit!" "On the contrary, it seems to me it fits admirably. He is able to throw off his cares and forget them--and to make a boy of himself. That may be the reason he is so shrewd--he comes at business fresh every morning. I think it was a pretense at first, but it has become second nature now."